The memories flowed into me disjointedly in out-of-place fragments rather than a cohesive narrative. Attached to the memories was the faintest scent of frankincense and myrrh–a scent Ani, it seemed, associated with Shahrazad.
The truth of Ani’s disappearance was as ridiculous as it was believable. Bored, he and Ranch had taken to pranking unsuspecting people. They started with the crew, and once that, too, had grown boring, they’d expanded their reach until Shahrazad made the same mistake I had and voluntarily let the cats into her room. Like vampires given permission to enter a dwelling, they’d made her home their own, and the tiny traitors had relished in the additional attention and superior food quality that only royalty could afford them.
Perhaps I would have been offended if I didn’t know first-hand the difference between royal quality and standard quality of goods. Or if I hadn’t felt Ani’s sincere joy at seeing me again for myself. To him, the royal treatment was an entertaining vacation.
“You’re so willful,” I scolded quietly. By the facial expressions Cove was making in the corner of my eye, I assumed a similar conversation was happening between him and Ranch.
The faintest warmth of delight trickled down our bond along with the memories.
The final memory he shared with me was of Shahrazad and her attendants preparing for war. In the memory, she’d smiled down at Ani as she reached a warm hand down toward him, stroking his head. “You should stay hidden, little one. I wouldn’t want you to get caught in the crossfire,” she’d told him as her warm hand had slipped away, leaving cold in its wake. She’d smiled again, the smile not quite reaching her eyes as she gave one long, hard look at the steadily brightening sky before marching out the door, her attendants and guards following in her wake.
Concern clawed its way up my throat. I hadn’t yet informed Sinbad or Cove of my dream, and now I was unsure if I’d have the opportunity.
I recalled the events of Sera’s father’s death and hoped that this time, I’d have the opportunity to change the events of my dream. It crossed my mind that if I couldn’t change things, we would be at fault for whatever we had changed that caused Shahrazad’s story to end in death rather than her being placed on the throne.
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“We need to find her quickly,” I told the others.
The faint scent of frankincense and myrrh lingered in my nose as we slipped out of Shahrazad’s room and down the bright hallways, still dressed in our pirate disguises. Ani perched himself on my shoulder, digging his claws into the heavy red coat that draped over my shoulders, a size or two too large. Shouts bounced off the walls, followed by the distant sounds of battle. Our footsteps beat faster as we picked up the pace, heading toward the source of the noise.
In an intersection of the hallway, three of Shahrazad’s purple ribboned men faced two still loyal to the Mad King. Though they’d been comrades only hours before, both sides were aiming for the kill, delivering powerful blows aimed at the neck and other vital areas. Sinbad leaped into action, drawing his machete and sneaking behind our enemy. He tiptoed up until he was able to dart forward gracefully, flicking his blade up and around to rest against the guard’s neck, his other arm reaching up to catch him in a firm grip. Sinbad’s face was as cold as stone, his eyes fierce and determined.
“Surrender.”
The guard struggled in Sinbad’s hold. I looked away, focusing on the other guard as Sinbad slid his sword across the man’s throat and dropped him to the ground. Cove approached the second, dropping his shoulder to deliver a devastatingly powerful kick to the man’s upper back, knocking him forward on one of our comrade’s swords. Shahrazad’s man shoved the body off to the side, yanking his sword out and holding the dropping blade away from his body.
The bodies and the blood faded into black smoke as I approached. I felt myself steadied by the sight–our non-human enemies had disappeared similarly.
“We didn’t need the help. But thanks anyway, I guess,” one of the guards, a hard-eyed young man, said, his gaze jumping between us and his sword at the ready.
“Where’s Shahrazad?” Cove asked, his impatience coloring his voice.
One of the other men answered in an equally clipped tone, his low voice carrying easily over the reverberating sword clashes and shouts from elsewhere in the castle. “We don’t know.”
Cove closed his eyes, and I caught the faintest whiff of salt and moisture as his magic brushed against mine, reaching out to feel in all directions. They snapped back open less than a second later. “This way,” he said, turning down the left-hand intersection. Ranch butted her head against his neck, her tail flicking to curl gently around his arm. He reached up to pat her tiny head twice, stalking determinedly down the hallway.
Sinbad and I followed, the eyes of Shahrazad’s men drilling holes into the back of our heads until we made another turn and vanished from their sight.